Warm Me Up
by raspberriesandrum
Summary: Oliver is cold, Percy is warm.


**Warm Me Up**

* * *

Percy yelped as he felt a pair of ice-cold feet slide up his calves to press themselves right up in between his thighs, getting dangerously close to a sensitive part of his anatomy.

"Oliver! Get your feet off me you bloody ingrate, they're cold as ice!" he scolded, bolting upright in his bed in the Gryffindor dorms, "And what are you doing in my bed anyway? Go to sleep by yourself!"

"Don't be so stingy Perce, I'm freezing here and you're so warm," groaned Oliver pressing his face between Percy's shoulder blades and sliding his big, frozen, hands under his sleep-shirt.

"Don't just stick your hands in my shirt! Hey, are you listening?"

Gooseflesh crawled its way across Percy's skin and sent a sympathetic shiver running through him as Oliver continued to try and crawl into his pajamas with him.

"I went for a fly," Oliver said by way of explanation.

Percy groaned, "Quidditch fanatic. You can't tell me things like that, Oliver. You're breaking curfew and I am Head Boy you know."

Percy could practically feel him roll his eyes.

"Take the points, it doesn't bother me."

"That only makes it worse. Idiot. And what are you thinking, flying around at midnight in the middle of January."

"Hmm? Well, I wanted to play Quidditch, of course. Hey, can't I stay with you tonight?"

Percy snorted and untangled himself from Oliver's loose hold and the warmth of his bedspread, ignoring Oliver's noises of protest.

The floor was just as chilled as Oliver under his bare feet and he waved his hand, lighting the candle on his bedside table, wandlessly. He smiled at it for a second, it was the only wandless magic he could manage but it was better than most wizards, and then padded over to his desk and grabbed the two small battered mugs and the firewhiskey he kept there, glad, not for the first time, that he and Oliver were the only seventh year Gryffindor boys since Logan and McFadden had decided they weren't going to take their NEWTs and had left the year previous.

"Here," he said, handing Oliver the green one with the broken off handle and pouring two fingers of the strong whiskey, "It'll warm you up."

Oliver smiled and accepted the cup.

"I still can't believe you Perce, the ultimate stickler for rules with firewhiskey in his desk drawer."

"It was a birthday gift from Fred and George."

"Hmm?" said Oliver, taking a small sip and savoring the heat that sank into his stomach and then out to his extremities, "I thought they got you a sock."

Percy sighed taking a sip from his own cup, a delicate china tea-cup with a faded blue flower pattern and a chip in the rim.

"It wasn't just one sock, it was thirteen. All the left socks they'd stolen from me over the summer, and that wasn't so much a present as a token of their fleeting benevolence. I was surprised they didn't hex them as a birthday prank."

"Me too," snorted Oliver, draining the rest of his whiskey and setting what was quickly becoming his mug down on the top of bookshelf next to what was quickly becoming his side of the bed.

"Don't just go around making yourself comfortable in other people's beds, idiot," said Percy, crossing his arms and scowling down at the quidditch fanatic.

"Only yours, Perce," said Oliver, holding back the covers with a motion for Percy to climb in, "Hurry up before we get cold again."

Percy huffed, a flush climbing steadily up the back of his neck and over the tips of his ears, but set his cup on the bedside table and blew out the candle.

He slid back under his covers and was glad that in the dark Oliver couldn't see his horrendous blushing as he shifted closer and wound an arm around his waist, nuzzling his nose into the hair behind his ear with a happy sigh.

"Night, Perce. Love you."

Percy cleared his throat a bit and hoped that Oliver couldn't feel or hear how his heart had skipped a beat and then started again at double speed.

"Goodnight Oliver," he said, briskly.

It was only when his breath had evened out and his arm had become dead-weight across his stomach that Percy felt brave enough to turn in his loose embrace and murmur, "I love you too, idiot," into his collarbone and let his eyes fall shut with a sigh of his own.

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**Author's Note: **This was done for _Romi's Autumn Flashfic Challenge_ on HPCF, if you liked this premise you should definitely go check out the rest of this week's entries!

First time writing for this pairing so please review and let me know what you guys think!


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